


Salope De Mort

by trycatpennies



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-11
Updated: 2011-05-11
Packaged: 2017-10-19 06:47:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trycatpennies/pseuds/trycatpennies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A strange little story, sort of reaper!Bob.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salope De Mort

There's only black here, and Bob's not surprised that he can't see his own hands. He's done this before.

He pulls the trigger and the darkness fades and the girl drops to the ground, her face peaceful, and her friend's screams are silent, in this world.

He walks toward her and picks her up, and she's the same as the body on the ground, but brighter somehow and she smiles at him.

"I'm dead, aren't I."

Bob nods and the girl shrugs, and Bob doesn't ask why she's so calm about it. He doesn't know, but he doesn't need to either. He's never been curious. He assumes she'd been sick.

He doesn't choose them, the gun does.

The next time he dreams, the black is just as black but when he squeezes the trigger the dark doesn't disappear, just fades a little and Bob's in a basement, watching someone else pass out and never wake up.

It's Gerard, and Bob feels his heart stutter in his chest and he doesn't know how he knows the name, except that maybe this is what life he was supposed to have if he hadn't found the gun he holds in his hand.

Gerard stands up and his eyes are wide and Bob explains that Gerard's dead, and that he has to come with him. Gerard doesn't ask questions, just follows Bob into the darkness like a shadow with dark hair.

When Gerard vanishes, it takes three days for Bob to start missing him, despite never missing anyone before.

-

Bob's been here for longer than he knows, but he knows when he came from. He knows he's from the United States and that the gun was from a railroad he was building, that cut through trees and land like a burning snake, wrecking and winding across the country.

He knows he was alone, wherever he was, one among many, but alone despite it. He knows it was a clear night that he found he gun.

The nights he can sleep after he's been to the dark, he dreams of that.

-

"Robert Bryar," Jack calls and Bob looks up, smiling and shaking his head. Jack's drunk, unsurprisingly, and Bob's on his way to being the same. It's been a long day, and the two of them are sun reddened on top of a sunburn that's never left and Bob winces when Jack slaps him on the back.

The woman behind the bar pours Bob another drink and he tilts the glass toward her, smiling and she blushes, smiling back and then moving to the other end of the bar, her eyes darting back to Bob on occasion, coy and sweet.

"Take her home," Jack says, and Bob shakes his head, downing his drink and then looking at Jack.

"To my straw bed in the barn next your straw bed in the barn, Jack? She's could have any man in this place, what makes you think it's me she wants?" Bob says and Jack laughs, widely. Bob thinks that that's one of reasons he's quieter than most, because Jack's always been enough loud and brash for the both of them.

"Because she's still watching you, despite my ever present presence," Jack says, and he slings his arm around Bob. "You know, big brother, it's a shame I got all the good looks. I could have spared at least some for you."

He dodges Bob's swing and then backs away, laughing. Bob smiles grudgingly, and then follows Jack out of the bar, one last look at the woman before he goes.

Outside the air is cold, and Bob can see his breath against the stars in the sky and Jack's singing something, and Bob can recognize the tune of the song their mother used to sing them to sleep, but none of the words, which means Jack's drunk enough to have switched to French, something Bob never bothered to learn, but Jack had picked up as easily as Bob had picked up fighting.

They both have their strengths.

There's something static in the air, and Bob looks up, squinting at the sky, before he trips, and he feels the air leave his body as he hits the ground, hard.

When he can sit up, he does, slowly. His head is spinning, and he reaches up, touching his forehead. When he pulls his hand away, there's a red streak of blood on his fingers and he can't hear Jack's words, only the melody of the song and fuck, he swears he can hear his mother's voice instead.

There's a glimmer on the ground by his foot, and he looks down, picks up the metal of a gun, but there's only dark around it, like it's sitting inside a shadow darker than the night around them.

Then there's silence, and he picks up the gun, and there's nothing after that. Only grey.  
-

When Bob wakes up from his dream, he's in his bed, in the same grey place he's been since that night he found the gun. It's all he ever dreams of, and it's all he'll ever get, and he only wishes he could remember the words to the song, or the name of the woman in the bar.

-

Nothing grows here, until Bob plants a small green thing, a seed he finds and it grows into something fragile and tiny, delicate beyond anything he's seen and he waters it and guards it from the dark shadows and makes sure it gets what little sun he's seen here before.

From what Bob knows he's alone. He's never seen anything human other than in the dark in his dreams. He doesn't count the demons. He doesn't know if they're true demons or not, but they shadow crawl across the ground and kill anything in their path, and he's been crossed before, and it hurt so bad that he can't remember how he killed it, only the moment after.

The gun is the only thing with color, other than the green thing, and Bob knows that the red streaking the barrel is blood, and he knows that every time he pulls the trigger it gets darker. He wonders if he'll be doing this till the gun is red, or if there's an escape, somewhere for him. He tries not to think about it.

He wakes up to a white flower on the green thing and Gerard at his front door, a shivering naked wreck.

Bob doesn't ask how he got there, and he's pretty sure Gerard couldn't answer. He takes him inside and locks the door, wraps a blanket around him and waits, feeding him when Gerard can eat and talking to him, unsure of if Gerard can even hear, let alone understand.

Three days pass and Gerard wakes up, so to speak. He's been awake since he showed up, unless he slept while Bob was in the dark, but on the morning of the third day, Gerard speaks, stopping Bob dead in his tracks.

It's someone's name, and Bob doesn't know whose, just that it's not his and not Gerard's and Gerard's out of it again before Bob can ask, but it's something.

It's something new, like the green.

-

There are ink lines spreading across the man's body and Bob wants to see what they feel like. He tries to remember each one, but when the man vanishes into the dark and Bob goes back to the grey, he can only remember the words search and destroy, two birds and a pair of crossed pistols on the man's back.

He tells Gerard and the next time he comes back from the dark, there are charcoal lines across the one of the rock sides of their small shelter, and it's a perfect detail of the ink that Bob remembers off the man.

Gerard is inside, and Bob wraps his arms around him, cradling Gerard against his chest while Gerard sobs.

"You drew it perfectly," Bob says, when Gerard's crying slows and Gerard nods. "You knew him."

"I loved him," Gerard says, finally, and he turns, burying his face in Bob's neck and whispering his words. "I'd just forgotten."


End file.
